I have no idea where to begin, maybe I’ll start with the name of the blog. Am I a rock star in the true sense of the word? Not unless you count me getting crazy on the drums in Guitar Band. I just took the phrase from a few friends who recently called me a Rock Star mom, and because the other titles I was going for were no longer available. I guess that speaks volumes for my sense of creativity!

Where did it come from?

A few weeks ago, I announced I was having twins. This is crazy to me. My husband and I were planning on one more, just one. We already have two amazingly beautiful, smart, funny, healthy children ages 5 1/2 and 4 years old. We wanted to add one more to our brood. We always thought five was a strong number, you can’t break an odd number. Nonetheless, we, or should I say, my doctor, discovered two on a fluke visit because I had been feeling so sick. So sick, that I couldn’t get out of bed, eat or drink anything, and I was going to my doctor to beg her for any kind of medicine to help make me feel human again. I seriously did not remember being this sick with my other two, not bad enough to need meds. Needlesstosay, she congratulated me on twins and asked if they ran in the family. I was in the office by myself because my husband was away on business, and it was the last thought running through my head. “I guess,” was all I could say; it’s not like we were taking fertility drugs and the reality is that I will be 35 this year. When I made it back to the safe haven of my family to give them the news, they started spewing out all of the relatives, apparently on both sides of my family, who had had twins. When the news finally reached my in-laws, they started spewing out all the relatives on their side of the family that had had twins. In hindsight, my answer should have been, “Yes! It runs rampant on all four sides of our family. We chose to ignore this information previously because we didn’t believe it would ever happen to us.”

But it did. I also work for an athletic apparel company, managing the store on the Las Vegas strip, as well as managing the community program. I probably put in anywhere from 60-80 hours a week, depending on the week. On top of that, I still find time to volunteer at my kids’ schools, make their lunches (don’t even get me started…this will be a whole new blog) so they are not subjected to the horrors of the food selection offered by the Clark County School District, attend birthday parties, throw birthday parties, hang out with my girlfriends, Sunday dinners with our family, get kids to karate, ballet and swimming, plan vacations, run 5ks, 10ks and 1/2 marathons, Sunday brunch with the hubby and kids, and accompany my husband to his many exciting and late night excursions for his work. This is how I was given the label “Rock Star Mom”.

What they don’t know, or maybe just don’t realize, is how much help I have to make this happen. I have a TON of help. As you may have guessed, I live in Las Vegas. My husband works for the largest gaming company in Las Vegas, maybe even the world (I’ll have to research that), and his job is to take care of very high end players…he does a lot of entertaining, and I get the fortunate opportunity to accompany him to some of these amazing events. The coolest thing is that we were both born and raised here. We went away to college in California for four years to get our diplomas, then came back. Though we are four years apart, we never knew each other directly. Oddly enough, our younger siblings went to high school together, and when we were younger, we participated on the same swim teams, cotillion, had the same memories of growing up in Las Vegas, but because of our age difference, we never really crossed paths. Until our mothers introduced us. (yes, another blog post) What this means for us is that both of our families are here. My grandparents moved out here in the 1960’s and his family even earlier than that. His great grandfather had the only drug store for the workers out at the Hoover Dam, and his great grandmother was the elite’s town photographer. So, I can’t take all the credit for my Rock Star status. My mother in law gets my kids to and from ballet, karate and swimming. My mother makes sure my son is getting his religious education. Between the two of them, they pick up, drop off, and babysit several times a week so my husband and I can both have careers. On top of that, I have a weekly cleaning lady. I have a college student who sits for me on Tuesday nights so I can work late or go to a fitness class. On Thursdays and Fridays I have a “Mommy’s Helper” who does my laundry, cooks my kids’ dinner, cleans up the kitchen, bathes them and puts them to bed (in their own beds even!). This allows me to grab dinner with my husband at the hotel, drinks with him and some players, a concert, a party. Sometimes it even means I get to have an early dinner or happy hour with my girlfriends or my sister. If I’m in a jam, my grandmother lives right down the street. My aunt will keep my kids overnight every once in awhile, and when she can’t my mother in law can. Yes, I may have the drive to want to get all of these things done. I mean, who doesn’t want it all? I know I do. And I think my kids deserve too. There should be no reason their health, education or social life suffers because I work full time in a career that I love. I struggle with this constantly, but in the end, it’s my life, and this is how I choose to live it. I don’t blame, I don’t play victim. If I can’t handle something, I don’t take it on. But I am responsible for the actions, choices, decisions I make in how I am running my life. Sometimes they turn out not to be the best ones, but I love learning from mistakes…it’s called experience. Life can be so full if you let it. Everyone has their own idea of what this is for them. For me, it’s taking it all on. I guess this is where that Rock Star status comes in play. But just like any other Rock Star, you need your entourage to make it happen. And I sure as hell have mine. Thank god they don’t ask me to pay them!!!